


Perspective

by benedictedcumberbatched



Series: 500 Followers [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benedictedcumberbatched/pseuds/benedictedcumberbatched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock returns from his 4 minute exile, he goes straight to Bart’s to make sure she’s safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perspective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ordinarilygraceful](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ordinarilygraceful).



> As always, nothing belongs to me.
> 
> This is prompt 1 of my 500 Followers series.

The door to the morgue flew open with such force that it bounced off the wall. Molly screeched at the noise and spun around, a scalpel held so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Sherlock quickly threw his hands up in surrender and stared at her shaking, wide-eyed form as he approached. He didn’t know how to explain what was going on, but he would get to the bottom of it. As soon as he was informed and shown what the entire country had been seeing on their television screens, his first coherent thoughts were of Molly. In the mean time, if Moriarty was back, though Sherlock couldn’t explain how that was remotely possible, Molly was in danger.

The television continued to blare the message in the background but Sherlock only had eyes for Molly Hooper. “Molly, put the scalpel down,” he said slowly. The thin blade clattered to the floor and in a flash of color and brown hair Sherlock caught Molly as she threw her arms around him.

The detective froze for a moment, trying to make sense of the situation. Molly had her arms around him. Molly never initiated any physical contact with him outside of slapping him, but he had deserved that. He always initiated any physical contact, usually in the form of a simple kiss to her cheek. That was what friends did wasn’t it? He didn’t understand why having her hugging him made his brain short circuit. Molly drew back and stepped away, her eyes furious. Before he could deduce why she was angry, she slapped him. He looked at her, eyes wide, his hand rubbing his burning cheek.

“Don’t you dare leave without telling me again! I already thought I lost you once; I will not lose you again. Do you understand me, Sherlock Holmes?” Molly said sternly. 

Sherlock smirked. “Crystal. Now, are you okay?”

Molly looked taken aback. “Am I okay?”

“Molly, I want you to come to Baker Street until I get to the bottom of this Moriarty thing. You are in danger for helping me. He will know. I need to keep you safe. You’re the one who mattered most. You saved me when I was shot. You didn’t know it and I never told you but you helped me fall. You, Molly Hooper, kept me safe, kept me alive. I need to keep you safe because you do count, you do matter. You asked me once what I needed and the answer hasn’t changed,” Sherlock rambled, his hands moving from gripping her shoulders to cradling her face. His brow furrowed as what spilled from his lips finally registered in his brain. There had been no thought, no analyzing or filtering, and what shocked him the most was that it had not come from his brain. 

Molly grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him toward her. All thought ceased as her lips crashed against his. But Molly kept the pressure and slowly Sherlock began to respond.

“That was one deduction…” he began once they parted.

“Shut up and kiss me, Sherlock,” Molly laughed, shaking her head before taking his head between her hands and pulled him back toward her, her fingers tangled in his hair.

“So I take it you’ll come to Baker Street?” he murmured in her ear. At that, Molly laughed. Sherlock’s deep laugh soon joined hers.


End file.
